


Glad You Didn't

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: The reader says that she thought about suicide a lot and Dean says, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t”…





	Glad You Didn't

You sat at the table in the library staring at Dean’s gun lying in front of you. It was a funny little thing, wasn’t it? It could fit right in your hand, just like so, and all of a sudden have so much power.

You looked across the room, seeing the samurai sword that Dean loved so much. Just a hunk of metal, but shape it just right and it can cut through anything. Especially that one there, it was extra sharp.

One more glance across the room had you seeing some of Sam’s spell ingredients. Again - so many small little things in their jars, but mix them just so and you’ll have a lethal combination.

Tears blurred your vision as you thought of how easy it would be to just go. Right there in the room with you, so many options of easy and quick ways to die…

You leaned forward to cradle your head in your hands.

It’s not the first time you’d thought through your options, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. You’d struggled with anxiety and depression your entire life, but hadn’t ever brought yourself to the point-

That’s a lie. 

There was the one time, but your friend found you in time and you spent a few days in the hospital. 

The boys didn’t know about that.

_The boys_. 

Sam. Dean. Cas. 

You couldn’t leave them, not now. There was so much to do and you knew how much they relied on you. Frankly, that’s the reason why bad nothing had happened with you in a while: they were always there to protect you.

The tears were flowing and you didn’t even know when they’d started. All of a sudden, there were strong arms around you.

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard Dean’s warm voice in your ear. “What’s wrong, babe?”

You leaned into Dean’s embrace, finding comfort in his scent and warmth. Slowly the tears stopped, your nose sniffing from the moisture.

“What’s wrong?” Dean repeated, now that you were calmer and he was holding you close.

You looked over at his gun laying on the table. “Just thinking.”

Dean’s eyes followed yours, resting on his ivory-laden Colt. He seemed to be asking it for answers and you watched as his eyes widened in realization. He looked back at you, a question on his face.

“Just thinking, Y/N? Please tell me you weren’t thinking about…” Dean’s voice trailed off, not wanting to voice his realization.

You sat up straight, out of his arms, having given this enough thought and therapy that you could actually talk about it. “Suicide, Dean. It’s called suicide.”

You felt Dean’s hands tremble where he was holding you, letting you slide out of his grip. “Wha-…Why-… Y/N, how often do you think about that?”

You shrugged, playing with a loose string on your shirt as you looked back at the gun. “I dunno, on and off for practically my whole life, I guess.”

You let that sink in, before continuing. “I’ve been pretty close a couple times. It’s been serious. I almost did…”

Dean covered your hands with his, squeezing them tightly. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’m so, so glad you didn’t.”

He pulled you back into his arms, hugging you tight, as if you were about to slip away from him. You felt him kiss the side of you head, squeezing you even tighter.

Dean didn’t want you to be gone; the thought warmed you deep in your soul. 

He didn’t want you to be gone, so you wouldn’t leave him.


End file.
